Satyam's Inara

Picture, a pitcher of glass, Into which, all your emotions pass, You fill in all your sorrows, all your joys, The pitcher holds them, so you may rejoice. Cheer the pitcher pours, in times mellow, Fear the pitcher holds, when you wanna let go. In all its whims and all its transparency, You fail to see, the pitcher's capacities, The pitcher drowns in its own blood, You blame the pitcher, letting itself flood. Made if the pitcher was of a mirror, Maybe then would you reflect on its sinner.

Ends tie us together, Ends move us part, Ends mark the start, Of an untrodden path. Ends meet, Ends knot, Ends leave a mess, In joy once brought. Ends held onto, Ends let go, Ends burn down, By poison of ego. Ends calm, Ends make cry, Absence ends, Present flies by, All that begun, Shall meet an end, Ends give meaning, To life's tangled thread. In the end, Tears need mends, Before being dust, Where all ends blend.

Do raahi, Jinki raahe takrai, Takrakar ulajhti hi jayi, Kabhi na alag ho payi, Gaate gaate, Nayan mil jaate, Chipte chipaate, Hoth uljhaate. Ek dusre banaaye ik yaad, Wahi bani pyaar ki buniyaad, Din na dhalte, bin unki pukaar, Kaash hum, na hote nadiyo paar. Din beetei, hue pure saal, Lafzon mei aate hue yaad, Kaate kai lamhe, din ya raat, Chahte hue uske zulfon mei haath. Ab kaate lamhei, kaate pal, Raahei rahi uljhi dar dar, Raahi nahi sulhenge iss chahat parr, Yahi hai mohabbat ka starr